What Now?
by doctorgayass
Summary: Back to Hogwarts. For what? Maybe it's because Draco doesn't know what to do now that his family is in prison. Or maybe it has something to do with Potter. Maybe both. Either way, Draco is back for Year Eight. Disclaimer. I own none of these characters.
1. Back Again

Draco's POV

Stepping aboard the train, Draco did his best not to be seen. Not exactly easy when you're the laughing stalk of Hogwarts. He moved swiftly, twisting and turning to avoid people. Nearly running, he hurriedly looked for an empty compartment while trying to ignore the whispers that seemed to mock him. His instincts told him to run, to leave and never come back. He gritted his teeth and continued to march forward. _One step at a time. I will not back down._ Glancing around him, he realized everyone is glaring at him, including the Slytherins. He looked forward and runs head first into some bulky Gryffindor.

"Hey watch it Malfoy," he spat. "No one is going bow down to you anymore. You're just one of us now. A lowly Slytherin."

The Malfoy only shot a glare and moved past him. All Draco wanted to do in that moment is disappear. To not be stared at. To not be the previously cocky Draco Malfoy. Not for the first time, he wished he was someone else. Anyone else.

He looked into a half-open compartment, and he locked eyes with Pansy Parkinson. He hadn't seen her since his trial.

"Merlin! Pansy, why didn't you respond to my owls?!" He noticeably relaxed once he found his friend.

As he moved closer, the girl hissed at him. "Because you're a dirty traitor!" Every word was like a blow to the chest. "You killed Crabbe and then you went and somehow managed to get Potter to defend you." He shamefully looked down at his feet, trying not to fall apart. "How did you do that? Did you tell give your gold to the weasels so the pathetic turd would save you from prison? Or did you promise him a kiss on the cheek?"

Malfoy felt anger bubbling inside him, and glared at Parkinson. "Potter is not pathetic! He's twice the person YOU'LL EVER BE!" _Why am I defending him? I hate him_ , Draco asked himself.

Pansy hums. She had her arms crossed but seemed ready to hex her ex-friend. "So it's true. You have become a mindless Potter fangirl just like everyone else." She looked disgusted. "Just get out of here." _She can't even look me in the eye._

Draco spun on his heel and walked out, too angry and hurt to look back. Right as he left the compartment, he passed Goyle and he could just barely hear him whisper murderer. That made his knees weak. Knowing that he was completely alone. It made him sick. He moved as fast as he could without collapsing.

Slamming the door to the first compartment he could find, he released a breath he didn't realize he was holding. _I should never have come back, his mind shouted. I'm a Malfoy, and Malfoys belong in Azkaban_. Draco felt his body flung forward slightly, and he realized that the train had started moving. Of course. I guess I'm stuck now.

He sat down and ran through a few quick breathing exercises his therapist taught him. _In. Out. Focus on exciting things in the future, not the battle that happened._ The war changed him. Of course, it did. But it also made him feel things that he didn't know was possible. He'd be completely numb, but feel everything at the same time. There were no good feelings. No happiness. No excitement. Just pain and emptiness. The war made him feel things that he would never have understood before even if someone tried to explain it. Which makes it so much more lonely, since anyone willing to speak to him couldn't understand what it's like to feel so much that you think you're going to explode, but at the same time feel so little that you think you're going to implode. Every single day his mind held it's own war. Draco hated that so much.

His mind started to ponder everything that happened in the past four months. _The battle. There was so much blood. And Crabbe._ Tears reach the young boy's eyes for the third time that day. It didn't seem to matter how long it had been. It would still hurt so much. The mix of pain and guilt was almost unbearable. At first, he didn't try to make the feelings go away. He seemed to think that he deserved to hurt. _Stop. Malfoys don't cry. But Malfoys aren't supposed to be in prison either._ It was all too much. To suddenly lose everything. For one day, to be Prince, but the next, less than a peasant. He thought back to the day of his parents trial. Damnit no, it's too painful. He couldn't stand to think about the disappointment his father seemed to radiate or his mother's haunted sobs.

Then Draco's eye suddenly snapped open. _Potter. This is going to be the first time I've seen him since the trial._ His heart beat faster at the thought. Fingers started tapping from the anxiety. _Relax. It'll be alright. Just take deep breaths. Why do I feel like this? I shouldn't be this bothered by that rat._ Right in that moment, the door slid open to reveal an anxious looking, emerald-eyed boy. _Eyes as green as a fresh pickled toad. That sentence does not do his eyes justice. I guess that's what happens when a 12-year-old writes a poem._ A nervous voice interrupted Draco's musings.

"Malfoy. It's nice to see you. I'm sorry about your parents."

"What do you want, Potter." Just seeing Potter brought back so many memories. None of them good.

"N-nothing", he stuttered. "I just wanted to show my condolences."

"Well keep it," Draco growled. "I don't need your pity. I didn't need it then and I don't need it now." His voice got softer as he spoke but no less angry.

"Look, I didn't come to pick a fight, I just wanted to be friends." Harry seemed genuinely concerned. Something that Draco wasn't used to. _Who would want to be friends with me? Even I wouldn't want to be friends with me._

"Friends?" He scoffed at the word.

"Yeah. A friend is someone that cares about you and will help you." He gave the blonde a crooked smile, while Malfoy just kept glaring.

"I know what a friend is Potter, I'm not stupid. But why?" _This must be some sort of joke_ Draco's mind keep going back to the trial. How Harry stood up for him, how determined he looked, and everything that happened after. _First the kindness he showed at the Wizengamot and now this. This can't be real._

"'Cause I care and I wanna be there for you. Also, I know what it's like being an outcast and having everyone pissed at you." He didn't respond, just held the other boy's stare, silently calculating whether he could trust the raven-haired boy or not."Let's start over."

Harry walked closer, cleared his throat, and stuck out his hand. "Hi, my name is Harry Potter and I'd like you to be my friend."

Draco studied him for a second, before standing up, grabbing the hand, and giving a small smile for what must've been the first time in ages. _What the hell. Might as well give him a chance. I don't have anyone else anyways._ "My name is Draco Malfoy, and I'd be happy to be your friend."


	2. Who needs Feelings?

Harry's POV

Harry wiped the palms' of his hands on his pants, his heart going a mile a minute. _Are you kidding me. I've defeated the Dark Lord. I should not be this freaked out after talking to Draco Malfoy._ He takes a deep breath, trying not to look too disheveled before he takes a step into his compartment.

"Oi! Harry, mate. Where've you been?" Ron practically shouted at Harry while kept shoving his mouth full with candy. From the other side of the tiny room, Hermione sighed and facepalmed.

"Ronald, must you scream at him with your mouth full? Honestly, who raised you?"

"You've met the person that raised me," Ron said, while still chewing. "And yes, I must shout. I'm excited Harry's finally back."

The young Potter boy chuckled and sat down next to his best friend. "I wasn't gone that long. Now quit eating all the candy and save some for the rest of us."

"What do you mean you weren't gone long?! I thought you had fallen down the toilet!"

Everyone groaned and shook their heads at Ron, who was still grinning and eating candy. It was nice. To be in this comfortable position again. Just like many times before.

Hermione's voice rang out. "So who do you think is going to be our new DADA teacher? I hope it's someone who will actually teach us and isn't a dark wizard or something." Harry pulls a face thinking about the past teachers they've had. Ron just turns to look at his girlfriend.

"C'mon 'Mione, you know you can't ask that. You probably just jinxed it. We're going to end up getting some weakass like Quirrel now because of you," Ron glared at the bushy haired girl.

"Oh calm down. That's not going to happen. Mcgonagall is headmistress now I doubt she's going to let someone that dangerous into the school. Besides, Quirrel was not a weakass. He was being manipulated by Voldemort."

"Fine, say what you want, but my point stands. I do not want a creep like him teaching us again."

Harry snorts. "No one's disagreeing with you Ron."

The conversation from that point decreased, until it was just a comfortable silence between the trio. Harry stared out the window, watching trees in the horizon speed by. He thought about all the other times he was in this exact position. _8 years. This will be my eighth year at Hogwarts. One more than normal. Well nothing about my time at Hogwarts is normal. Except nothing about this year will be normal._ Thinking about how Dumbledore won't be there that year made tears spike in his eyes.

The amount of death he had felt, had touched, had been responsible for, physically hurt him. Every time he thought about one of the casualties from the war, his chest stung from guilt and hurt. He hated it. He just wanted it to be over, for everything to be okay. But apparently, just because Riddle was dead, doesn't mean everything goes back to the way it was. There was still a lot of healing to happen. Physically and mentally. Mainly mentally.

Everyone had said it wasn't his fault, Mrs. Weasley had said it wasn't his fault, but he still couldn't understand how she could look at him, after bringing the Weasleys' into the war, which ultimately led to Fred's death. _I killed them. I killed them all._ He took in a shaky breath. _Sirius, Remus, Dobby, Hedwig, Dumbledore, Fred. I killed Ron's brother._ His vision blurred. _It's not fair. It should've been me. I was the one that caused all this pain. Why did other people have to die for me. It's not fair._

At that point, he was fully crying. He was no stranger to pain and tears. Back at the Dursleys', he'd often cry himself to sleep, silently in his cupboard. He had hated himself, he sometimes still does. The only difference now was that Harry hated himself, not because he was different, or a so called "freak", but because he had caused so much pain and destruction. To himself, to his friends, to complete strangers. The guilt ate him up inside. So many times, he had wished for it to stop, to just disappear. To be someone else. Anyone else. To not have the weight of the world on his shoulders. To just be a normal boy with normal parents with normal childhood. Just thinking about what could've been made him want to get away. Need to get away. _I can't breathe_

Harry sprung to his feet and quickly excused himself. His friends did nothing but give knowing looks. He sprinted to the bathroom, slammed the door shut, before sliding to the ground with sobs shaking his entire body. _Why am I going back? What is there left for me? I destroyed Hogwarts. I destroyed my home. I don't deserve to go back. They deserve better. They all do._ His mind screamed at him and pounded at him until he could barely breath. Pictures of the castle burning flashes in his mind. Everyone screaming, the walls falling down on them, flashes of green shooting across every hallway, people dropping as the light disappears. Harry started hyperventilating, trying hard to control his anxiety attack. _In, Out. Breathe._

PTSD has shaken him to the core, just as it has with many others. _Remember, I am not my emotions. It's okay to cry, especially after something so traumatizing._ He chants the words his therapist keeps saying to him. _It's okay. It's okay._ He sucks in a deep breath and stands up. Letting out another quiet sob, he looks at himself in the mirror. Thin scar as visible as ever, hair messy and all over the place. Red, puffy eyes with a tear streaked face. A look he wore far too often now. Slowly moving his hand to turn on the tap, he takes off his glasses and washes his face, trying to cover up the fact that he had been crying. Suddenly, he heard voices outside. _We must have arrived._ He tried to clean himself up a little more, before he took a deep breath, and stepped out of the room, and silently said a prayer.

"I guess I'm stuck now. Time to move forward."


	3. No One Likes Nightmares

Draco's POV

 _Darkness. Complete darkness. Then suddenly, a massive flame ripped through the space in front of Draco. It slowly got bigger and bigger, turning into different animals and lunging at the boy._

" _AHHH!" Draco screamed, taking as many steps back as he could, before running into a large barrier. The flames surrounded him while he whimpered in fear. A snake, lion, badger, and eagle took form from the dancing flames, seemingly mocked him. They moved closer and closer. Draco spun around to only to see that on top of what looked to be a cliff, was his father watching down on him._

" _Father! Save me please!" He begged while sobs escaped him. "Father please!"_

 _Lucius' face remained passive as he spoke. "You're no son of mine. I have no son."_

 _Draco watched helplessly as his father turned on his heel and walked away. Tears streamed down his face as he turned around and stared at the flames to began to engulf him._

"Stop!" He woke with a shout, shaking in cold sweat. He swiftly got up and walked to the bathroom. He stared at his pale face, it had a grey tinge, just like during his sixth year when he was panicking because of Voldemort's task for him. Holding a hand over his chest, he tried to slow his heart. Silently, he thanked Merlin for remembering to put up silencing ward around his bed before he went to bed. _Ugh, I hate these living conditions. I knew McGonagall wanted more house unity but I didn't realize I would be living IN the Gryffindor Tower._

Earlier, at the Welcome Feast, the new headmistress had explained how a member of every house would be sharing a room. It was just bad luck that Draco got put into the Lion Tower. _Or is it good luck? I do get to see Potter more often now._ He started shaking his head. _Stop. Do not think about Potter like that. Besides, having to room with Longbottom is not worth the slight chance I get to see Potter._ When everyone realized they'd have to share a room with a Slytherin, there was an uproar. When Justin Finch Fletchy, Neville Longbottom, and Ravenclaw Christian Collins learned that they'd be living with a former death eater, they almost hexed Draco the moment he walked in. Although he wasn't turned into a frog, everyone made it very clear how they felt about the Malfoy.

 _I can't really blame them. I wouldn't want to share a room with me either._ He took a few more deep breaths, before walking out and down the stairs. He knew he wouldn't be able to fall asleep again, so what was the point of going back to bed? Walking into the common room, he glanced around. Red and gold everywhere made Draco miss the dimmer, but just as nice Slytherin Common Room. Chairs were neatly tucked away, unlike when he went to bed. The sofa by the fireplace would've seemed cozy to anyone but Draco. The last time he sat near fire, he had an anxiety attack. His therapist said it was his trigger, while Draco just scoffed. "Malfoy's don't have triggers" he had said. Nonetheless, he still avoided fire.

Finally, he decided to leave the common room, not caring about the rules he was breaking. He'd never been a fan of late night exploring and only went when absolutely necessary. _And when Potter was involved._ He wandered around, completely zoned out. It could have only been a few minutes or a few hours. He had no idea. All he knew was that he somehow ended up on the Astronomy Tower. _Why did I have to come here? As if my nightmares haven't been torturing me enough._ Draco tried his best not to think about the events that happened in that exact spot, and turned around, only to find messy haired Potter boy staring at him.

"Umm hi." Harry looked equally as surprised as Draco.

"Hi. What are you doing here?" After Harry spoke, it took Draco a second to register what had been said.

"Oh. I was looking for a place to be alone."

"Then I can go if you want."

"No, no it's okay." Draco stared into Harry's eyes. "Please stay. It might actually be nice not being alone for once."

"Alright, if you say so." The half-blood boy sat near the edge of the tower, watching Draco until he did the same.

They sat in an uncomfortable silence until Harry finally spoke up. "So, why are you up this late?"

Malfoy hesitated before speaking. "Nightmares."

"Yeah me too. You wanna talk about it?"

"NO," he snapped. Harry just stared at him in surprise.

"It's okay if you don't. I just want to make sure you're okay."

Draco sighed. "I know and I'm sorry. I'm just not ready to talk about it."

"That's okay. Frankly, I'm not either."

In this moment, Draco saw how worn down the other boy is. He had a tired look on his face that could only appear because of unspeakable horrors. They've both been through too much for their age he thinks. They just sit beside each other in silence, both enjoying each other's company. Sometimes, no words are needed to understand exactly how someone is feeling. They were both exhausted because of life, and all they needed was someone who understands. For Draco, he'd never had someone like that. Although Harry had Ron and Hermione, it was easier sometimes to be with someone who didn't know you as well.

Draco's mind was racing. He thought about everything that could have been different if that one thing hadn't happened. If Harry had accepted his friendship, would Draco still have become a death eater? If Draco hadn't been a selfish brat, would Harry liked to be friends? Why was it so important to Draco that his friends were not muggle-born? Now after the war, the only groups are the dead people and the people that cheated death. None of that matters anymore, why did it before? Why did it take the destruction of the wizarding world for him to realize?

Breaking the silence Draco spoke up. "I don't think we're as different as we thought we were."

Harry turned to look at the blonde. "What do you mean?"

"We're both just boys who could've had it all, but somehow was left with nothing."


End file.
